the man in the tower

the man in the tower

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

this amusing but tragic limerick tells the story of a man trapped in a tower and within his own ever delusional mind.
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Summary

this amusing but tragic limerick tells the story of a man trapped in a tower and within his own ever delusional mind.

Content

Submitted: May 12, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: May 12, 2017

A A A

A A A


The Man in the Tower

 

Here’s a tale of a man we’ll call “Bill.”

His own mind, he nearly did kill.

Sure, that is not his name,

From the quotes your thought came,

But this tale, goodness me, what a thrill!

 

What to speak of old Bill and his tower?

Well, he went mad and he lost all his power!

Many days there he stayed,

Until all his hair grayed,

Oh this man, my oh my, what a coward!

 

He couldn’t just get up and leave!

No, that he just couldn’t believe.

So he hid in that tower,

And continued to cower,

Until something would bring a reprieve.

 

Why was all his stuff locked in his truck?

He was scared and he simply felt stuck!

Up there fully alone,

He would complain and moan,

Until one day he yelled, “This does suck!”

 

Downstairs was clearly too scary.

There were dogs which were likely quite hairy.

They would bark oh so loud,

But the man was too proud,

He shout, “Christmas, no dogs, that sounds Merry!”

 

So the woman in charge he did phone.

And he spoke like a King from his throne.

“Get them out, yes you will,

Or I’ll sue just for thrill!”

Then more pills he did take all alone.

 

The hounds then did quick leave the place.

Yet the man sure did little but pace.

Then he started to type,

And his mouse he did swipe,

And his heart, how it started to race!

 

The neighbors he thought can’t be trusted.

This man was just so unadjusted.

They wished harm upon him,

In this place that was grim,

He must tiptoe and hide or be busted!

 

His ego was out of control.

“To listen and watch, that’s their goal!”

It was all in his head,

He thought they wished him dead,

In this tower, he wasn’t quite whole.

 

He checked book of the face on his app.

As always, pure twaddle and crap.

This made the man sad,

Which then made him quite mad,

So he thought, “I’ll get into a scrap!”

 

So he mocked all his friends like a jerk.

It was fun and he did some good work.

“These ridiculous chicks,

And the men with their pics!

It is really so sad, yet I lurk!”

 

The women on his list brought no cheer.

“Are there any good men left out there?”

“She is well past her prime,

Yet wants a man’s time?

With her baggage and shape like a pear?”


Of the men, they were weak and quite fake.

And one, so obese takes the cake.

And he vainly does speak,

Clings to food like leech,

One should never put trust in a snake!

 

So he wrote and he shared as he must.

To do so could only be just.

Yet they have far more cares

To let junk in their ears,

Simple plebs such as these, do disgust.

 

Half of his friends were removed within days.

Enough with their simpleton ways.

They were mocked just for fun,

And then he was done,

There’s the door, he did say, with a craze.

 

Then he lost what was left of his mind.

His friends and his family need help he did find.

“I must and why not,

It’s with demons they plot!

They need help and they surely are blind!”

 

So he spoke of the trees made of pine.

He yapped on and kept up for a time.

“They are evil you fools!

Chop them down with your tools!

It’s time that you all grow a spine!”

 

But they just would not take down their tree.

It’s important to children, you see?

With the kids, nothing fails,

And if so, someone bails,

Of course most would just surely agree.

 

So he gave up on his Christmas crusade.

The season was bought for and paid.

Yet it makes little sense,

And there is no defense,

The whole thing is just now a charade.

 

He had almost gone purely insane.

And the drugs had affected his brain.

He still wanted to fight,

But was scared of the light,

So he did so no more, all in vain.

 

And then his mind surely advanced.

In his tower he wept and he danced!

It was all in his head,

And gone was the dread,

Down the stairs, out the tower, he pranced!

 

And this now is the end of the tale.

The lesson is here like a veil.

All alone in your mind,

You surely will find,

What you think you create without fail.


© Copyright 2017 Alexander Sedgewick. All rights reserved.

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